


The Seconds Tick By, And I'm Still Here

by AnandaRunner



Series: Each New Moment and The Next Also [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Askbox Fic, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-17
Updated: 2013-05-17
Packaged: 2017-12-12 02:49:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/806289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnandaRunner/pseuds/AnandaRunner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of tiny!fics. These don't fall at any particular point in relation to the other stories in the series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Seconds Tick By, And I'm Still Here

Dean is the sort that hogs the covers and squeezes the pillows and wraps himself around Cas as they sleep. Cas doesn't mind, he loves the mumbled incoherent ramblings Dean offers as he dreams. Sometimes Cas wakes up to find himself face-to-face with Dean, sunlight glinting mischievously in those marvellously green eyes as the side of Dean's hand drags slow up the underside of Cas' cock, stealing sighing breaths with the insistence of his kisses and jerking them both in one calloused hand.

 

* * *

 

 

If Dean's in a foul mood, he has a reason. He never realized letting Cas fuck him stupid would have negative repercussions, but his ass would beg to differ. Walking feels weird, and don't get him started on hard chairs. And let's not mention the bathroom, alright? Just don't. Sam chokes on his cereal when Cas asks about Dean's moodiness, but all he gets is a sharp, "I'm fuckin' sore, okay? It's nothing." Cas' reply is simply, "Perhaps five times was a bit much for one night..."

 

* * *

 

 

For Sam, the real winning moment of 'my brother fucks an angel' is their mornings-after. Cas complaining about his jaw, Dean whining about his ass. Dean's comments about things like, "I forgot how much jerking off makes your arm hurt, jesus." and Cas' of "Semen really is not a very palatable taste, Dean..." But the thing Sam enjoys most is how the giddy, high-on-happiness grin never really leaves either of their faces.

 

* * *

 

 

Sometimes Dean likes to tease Cas. Mercilessly. He'll eat things like bananas and pickles and popsicles with a zealousness that outstrips even his attention to pie, all for the huffed exasperated sigh Cas expels as he shifts in his chair. He pays for it later, of course, when Cas is thrusting onto his mouth and growling as he comes, but even that doesn't wipe the smart-ass grin off his face. He did get what he wanted, after all.

 

Cas, on the other hand, tends more toward slow torture when he wants to mess with Dean. He'll place small kisses just behind Dean's ear while he tries to read, or skim his hands a bit lower than necessary when they embrace. Cas knows how the little things get Dean going. By the end of the day Dean's so worked up he's ready to come in his pants. Cas pulls quiet moans from Dean's lips as he rides the hunter's cock languidly and leaves them both loose-limbed and drowsing in the dark.

 

* * *

 

 

Dean hoped Cas would never catch on to his real weakness. But after uncounted months of sharing a bed, it was bound to happen. Half-awake one morning, Cas wraps one arm around Dean's chest and slides his fingertips down the soft skin at Dean's ribs, and Dean twitches, only slightly. Cas quirks and eyebrow and repeats the motion, puzzled when Dean practically jumps out of his skin. "I'm a little bit... ticklish, okay? Fuck," Dean grinds out but Cas smiles. "I won't use it against you, Dean."

 

But one day a week later, Dean's cooking dinner when Cas gently probes his ribs with curious fingers. "Dammit, Cas, not right now." "Sorry, Dean." And then later while they're watching a movie, he tries again. "Shit! Cas, not cool." Sam, for one, tries not to flat-out giggle. Cas only says, "Sorry Dean." But the next morning when Cas tries again, Dean rolls on top of him and pins his wrists to the bed. He catches on when he sees Cas grin, and growls, "You fucker, come here."

 

* * *

 

 

Cas has been harassing Dean for days about it now. "There's not enough room, Cas." "But Dean--" "No, Cas, it's too small." "Dean I really think we could make it work." "Dammit Cas, FINE. We'll try." It turns out, Dean was right, there's not enough room in the shower for both of them, but that just means they have to crowd closer together. And with all the steam fogging the mirror anyway, what's the harm in a soapy handjob or two?

 

* * *

 

 

And Sam, poor Sam, has to time his walks past Dean's bedroom very carefully. He's had one too many moments of idle wandering interrupted by gasps of "fuck, Cas, yesssss" or "don't stop Dean; Dean, please" and now he knows better. His brother's smug-ass grin doesn't help matters either. Sam would be sick of Dean's perpetual "I just got laid" face if he wasn't secretly, quietly happy for his brother's newfound peace.

 

* * *

 

Middle of the night Dean wakes up because his feet are cold, so he leans back enough to tuck the tops of his feet against the back of Cas' upper thigh and is rewarded with an actual honest-to-god yelp as Cas is roused from sleep. He clicks on the lamp beside their bed and fixes Dean with a piercing glare, all squinty-eyed and furious, but Dean just laughs quietly and rolls over. After Cas turns off the light, Dean mutters, "Consider that repayment for the tickle-torture."

**Author's Note:**

> more askbox fics sent to [riseofthefallenone](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com/)  
> but sssshhh I have a secret identity


End file.
